


What Sober Couldn't Say

by ribcage



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunk Texting, F/M, Happy Ending, Inspired By Tumblr, Texting, molliarty - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 08:59:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12339555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribcage/pseuds/ribcage
Summary: "(11:23 pm) Drinking again(11:24 pm) And since it makes me too sad to go on my blog anymore thanks to you, I figured it’s only fair you become my new place to vent(11:25 pm) You’re probably not receiving these messages anyway so no harm no foul(11:25 pm) Right?"Molly drunk-texts Jim over the course of several months.





	What Sober Couldn't Say

**Author's Note:**

> I have been on a roll with creating Molliarty content lately! Here's to hoping that continues. The title for this fic comes from the Halestorm song by the same name. Hope you enjoy, and if you do, bookmarks, comments, and/or kudos are very much appreciated!

**April**

**04.16**

(12:12 am) hEY ASSHOLE

(12:13 am) HOW DARE YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST MESS WITH MY HEART

(12:13 am) SHERLOCK DOES THAT ENOUGH AS IT IS

(12:14 am) ARE YOU A HIGH FUNCTIONING SOCIOPATH TOO OR WHATEVER

(12:14 am) WHY DOES THIS STUFF HAPPEN TO ME

(12:15 am) I'M A GOOD PERSON

(12:16 am) REALLY I AM

(12:16 am) COFFEE DATES ARE NOT SOMETHING WOMEN IN THEIR THIRTIES TAKE LIGHTLY JIM

(12:17 am) AND YOU TOOK ME ON TWO ANDDD SPENT THE NIGHT AT MY FLAT THEN JUST DISAPPEARED

(12:19 am) FUCK YOU

. . .

(11:33 am) Jim,

I'm not sure if you still use this number or if this was ever your real number in the first place. But I realized I sent you some angry messages last night. I also realized I overused caps lock. I'd like to apologize. I was drunk; please forgive my language. I get it. I was a means to an end. No hard feelings.

Molly

* * *

**May**

**05.13**

(11:23 pm) Drinking again

(11:24 pm) And since it makes me too sad to go on my blog anymore thanks to you, I figured it’s only fair you become my new place to vent

(11:25 pm) You’re probably not receiving these messages anyway so no harm no foul

(11:25 pm) Right?

(11:27 pm) Anyway

(11:27 pm) I lied last time I texted you

(11:27 pm) “No hard feelings”

(11:28 pm) Lie lie lie

(11:28 pm) Many hard feelings, Jim

(11:28 pm) Many hard feelings

(11:30 pm) I feel so stupid

(11:32 pm) You never gave a damn about me and I realize I clearly gave a damn about you otherwise I wouldn’t be so upset over a month later

(11:33 pm) I had fun with you

(11:34 pm) I felt like I finally found someone who didn’t care that I was awkward and struggled socially

(11:34 pm) That you accepted that about me

(11:34 pm) And in turn I found it easier to open up to you

(11:35 pm) To be myself

(11:35 pm) To feel comfortable

(11:36 pm) For the first time in my life I didn’t feel like I was the worst company in the world

(11:36 pm) Because you didn’t think so

(11:37 pm) Except now I realize you probably did think so

(11:37 pm) And I remember when I went on and on about fearing for other people’s lives

(11:38 pm) And you said “we all make our own choices in life, Molly”

(11:39 pm) Like “hey Molly it’s okay stop caring so much about a world that doesn’t care about you”

(11:39 pm) And it felt nice that someone cared enough to tell me that

(11:40 pm) That I should focus on me and my happiness and stop giving a damn about other people, even if for only a second

(11:40 pm) But now I feel like

(11:40 pm) Idk

(11:40 pm) Maybe your advice was meant more along the lines of “might as well care for yourself since no one else ever will”

(11:41 pm) Including you

(11:41 pm) And as much as that hurts

(11:41 pm) I can’t help but wonder if that’s how you feel personally

(11:41 pm) That no one will ever care for you.

(11:42 pm) Your network is anonymous, right?

(11:42 pm) You must not have a lot of friends

(11:42 pm) That must get lonely

(11:42 pm) And maybe that should make me happy, that someone who hurt me probably suffers himself

(11:43 pm) But it just makes me even sadder

(11:43 pm) Because you’re not the worst company in the world

(11:43 pm) And you deserve to know that

(11:44 pm) Even if you hated every second you spent with me, I enjoyed every second I spent with you

(11: 44 pm) And I know you were playing a part when you gave me that advice, but actors draw from their real-life struggles and experiences, right?

(11:45 pm) And you killed that Carl kid because he laughed at you, right?

(11:45 pm) Maybe everyone else in the world would look at that and say that makes you a crazy psychotic lunatic

(11:45 pm) But I think it shows how real you are

(11:46 pm) How human you are

(11:46 pm) Carl upset you

(11:46 pm) He probably made you feel like you didn’t fit in and no one accepted you

(11:46 pm) And I think maybe that’s why you connected with my struggle

(11:47 pm) Because you know what it feels like to have those awful thoughts about yourself running through your head

(11:48 pm) So if somewhere deep down you feel sad, I want you to know I don’t hate you

(11:50 pm) Even though you make me sad.

* * *

**June**

**06.04**

(12:35 am) So I went home with a guy

(12:35 am) Brandon or Brenton or something

(12:36 am) He works in anthropology at some place or other

(12:36 am) Anyway

(12:37 am) He’s alright-looking and bought me a drink so I figured why not

(12:37 am) Learned that one soon enough (literally)

(12:37 am) He’s lousy in bed; that’s why not.

(12:37 am) We went once, he was extremely selfish, and then he passed out

(12:38 am) The whole ordeal took maybe ten minutes

(12:38 am) Maybe

(12:39 am) It’s been seven minutes since he came and I’m just lying here unfulfilled

(12:42 am) I’m trying to figure out if I can sneak out now or if I have to wait until morning to make my getaway

(12:44 am) It also doesn’t help that every stupid sexual encounter I’ve had since March reminds me of when we had sex

(12:44 am) Because that was some amazing sex, Jim

(12:45 am) Penetrative sex

(12:45 am) And all I do is compare every guy to you

(12:45 am) Which is probably “morally wrong” since you’re a mass murderer or whatever

(12:45 am) But it’s also depressing since you didn’t even mean it, our sex

(12:46 am) Disposable Molly ftw!!!

. . .

(1:39 am) I escaped back to my flat FYI

(1:39 am) Safe and sound

(1:42 am) Like you care

* * *

**July**

**07.18**

(11:27 pm) I’ve been drinking again which of course means my mind drifted to you and I started overthinking and now I have a question

(11:27 pm) Why aren’t I dead?

(11:28 pm) At first I assumed you realized Sherlock couldn’t care less about me so I wasn’t important enough to kill

(11:28 pm) But then I realized

(11:28 pm) No

(11:28 pm) That doesn’t work

(11:28 pm) Because I saw your face

(11:29 pm) I had sexual relations with you

(11:29 pm) I could’ve identified you in court

(11:29 pm) I still could

(11:29 pm) Why would you let me live?

(11:30 pm) Why would you take the risk of your entire empire going under all because of the mousy pathologist from St. Bart’s Hospital?

(11:32 pm) Then I realized it probably wasn’t as much a coincidence as I originally made it out to be, Brenden or whoever showing up on my slab a few days after our pathetic one night stand

(11:33 pm) Especially since he had an erection that hadn’t been taken care of

(11:33 pm) After I told you he didn’t get me off

(11:34 pm) And I should probably be really scared that maybe you’ve actually been reading all of these texts this whole time

(11:34 pm) But I’m not

(11:35 pm) Maybe it’s because I knew you as Jim from IT, the shy, harmless, “gay” guy

(11:35 pm) But I’m not afraid of you

(11:36 pm) Call me pathetic all you want but you were the best relationship I ever had

(11:36 pm) You made me happy, no matter how short-lived it was

(11:38 pm) And I realized maybe everything wasn’t a lie

(11:39 pm) Maybe, despite how “evil” you are and all, you felt something, too

(11:39 pm) Maybe I wasn’t imagining our connection

(11:40 pm) And maybe even the big bad Jim Moriarty couldn’t bring himself to kill the lady who introduced him to Glee

(11:40 pm) Because Glee is a damn good show, Jim

(11:40 pm) And I think you meant it when you said you loved it

(11:41 pm) That is all

. . .

**07.19**

(1:32 am) Oh and thanks about Brenton I guess

* * *

**August**

**08.09**

(10:23 pm) Should I assume you “convinced” the bartender to give me a lifetime supply of free drinks?

(10:25 pm) I think I should

(10:26 pm) I think you like reading my texts, James Something Moriarty

(10:26 pm) I think I’m not the worst company in the world

(10:27 pm) When I’m drunk anyway

(10:27 pm) Gonna go get on that

(10:27 pm) Z

(10:27 pm) Lolll oops

(10:28 pm) Actually I might already be on that

(10:29 pm) Started drinking early tonight

(10:31 pm) Thank you for that by the way

(10:31 pm) Needed it

(10:32 pm) Today was awful

(10:33 pm) Anyway

(10:33 pm) Gonna go get *more drunk

(10:34 pm) Xxxx

(10:34 pm) ^ no z

(10:34 pm) Lol

. . .

(10:50 pm) Thank you for making me smile.

* * *

**September**

**09.27**

(12:01 am) Sherlock is so meannnn

(12:01 am) I think he has a girlfriend

(12:02 am) I shouldn’t even care

(12:02 am) If he’s finally stopped being allergic to sex, good for him

(12:02 am) Right?

(12:02 am) UGH

(12:04 am) I wonder if he knows you and I had sex

(12:04 am) Sometimes I think about telling him

(12:04 am) And that I don’t regret it

(12:04 am) Just to see if he looks hurt

(12:05 am) But more than likely he’d make some sort of comment about how I’m pathetic for getting used like that

(12:05 am) And somehow that seems worse than anything else he could say

(12:06 am) Because I can’t be sure of anything anymore but I no longer believe I was entirely disposable to you and I can’t explain that to him so I’d have to pretend it’s true and

(12:06 am) That sounds hard

(12:06 am) And painful

(12:07 am) So I don’t say anything

(12:09 am) Sometimes I don’t feel so strongly for him anymore though

(12:10 am) You’re the only thing that ever distracted me from him

(12:11 am) Sometimes I think of you and you still do

(12:11 am) Guess you could say I have a type

(12:12 am) But you also have your differences

(12:12 am) You and Sherlock

(12:12 am) And I guess that’s why I don’t have the response to you that I should

(12:13 am) I know now who you are and what you did, I know you lied to me, I know you blew up twelve people in a game with Sherlock

(12:13 am) But you don’t go out of your way to be cruel

(12:13 am) Like him

(12:13 am) I mean

(12:14 am) If you’ve truly been reading these texts this whole time, you could’ve sent back a reply saying terrible things

(12:14 am) Lots of replies saying lots of terrible things

(12:14 am) You could’ve done something to humiliate me

(12:15 am) Instead you let me vent to you, saved me money on alcohol, and took out a man who denied me an orgasm

(12:15 am) And my cat liked you

(12:15 am) Toby never likes the men I bring home, Jim

(12:17 am) I don’t know

(12:17 am) I guess it’s just

(12:17 am) Other than using me to get to Sherlock, you never did anything to hurt me

(12:17 am) And it’s not like you did that because you _wanted_ to hurt me

(12:18 am) You just needed a way to meet him

(12:18 am) And I can hardly blame you for that

(12:18 am) Being obsessed with Sherlock

(12:18 am) I can relate

(12:18 am) Clearly

(12:20 am) And as for the using me bit

(12:20 am) I hoped “Jim from IT” would make Sherlock jealous

(12:21 am) So

(12:21 am) I guess we’re one and the same, huh?

(12:24 am) Oh well

(12:25 am) If you had a hard day finding people to kill or whatever, I hope I was at least able to provide a distraction

(12:26 am) Night, Jim

* * *

**October**

**10.13**

(3:21 am) I hate my relatives!!!!!

(3:21 am) I have work in the morning and I haven’t been able to sleep all night

(3:21 am) I was too fucked up to even think to text you until now

(3:22 am) I got buzzed seeeeveral hours ago and just kept going from there

(3:22 am) I passed out for some time near my toilet bowl

(3:22 am) Drinking in tonight

(3:22 am) Alone

(3:22 am) Not a good idea, I know

(3:23 am) But whatever

(3:23 am) Even when I go out I’m alone

(3:23 am) That’s the whole reason for this awful night in the first place: my lack of relationship status

(3:24 am) The last of my cousins just announced her engagement

(3:24 am) So of course instead of just being happy for her, a whole THREE of my relatives, my mother included, decided this would be a good time to call me up and remind me I’m eternally alone

(3:25 am) “You’re over thirty and still don’t have a steady boyfriend, Molly”

(3:25 am) “The older you get, the less chance you can give me some grandbabies, Molly”

(3:25 am) “Don’t you want someone other than your cat to keep you warm at night, Molly?”

(3:26 am) !!!!!

(3:26 am) Yes, because it’s totally my choice I don’t have a steady boyfriend at 30+ years old

(3:26 am) Who said I even want kids???

(3:26 am) And they can FUCK RIGHT OFF with insinuating Toby is bad company

(3:26 am) I am well aware of the old cat lady stereotype, but this cat has made me happier than any man has since

(3:27 am) Well

(3:27 am) Since you

(3:29 am) “The only man I’ve been with who I really felt a connection with is also the world’s only consulting criminal, and our relationship was short-lived because it was part of a plan, and now the only contact we have is when I text him when I’m drunk, and I’m 99% sure he gets my messages but he never answers, so we’re not exactly ready to settle down yet.”

(3:29 am) Honestly Jim, if you killed your entire family when you acquired your network, I completely understand.

(3:30 am) Oh god

(3:30 am) Please don’t take that as incentive to kill my entire family!

(3:30 am) _Don’t._

(3:31 am) As much as I hate them right now, I don’t want them dead

(3:31 am) Then I’d really be alone

(3:32 am) Me and Toby, sitting in our lonely little flat, wondering what Jim from IT/Moriarty is up to

(3:33 am) Toby says I don’t scratch him behind the ears like you do

(3:34 am) Aaaand now that the alcohol is apparently wearing off enough for my daytime personality to come through, I think that’s my cue to go to sleep

. . .

(2:04 pm) I almost had a heart attack when I realized how late I slept in

(2:05 pm) Then I listened to the voice message my boss left me, telling me to go ahead and take the day off

(2:06 pm) Thank you, Jim.

(2:07 pm) x

* * *

**November**

**11.30**

(8:56 pm) I am overwhelmingly sad tonight which means drinking

(8:58 pm) My furry companion has been in no mood to cuddle for a week which means my only comfort is a bottle of chardonnay and a Glee marathon

(8:58 pm) And of course drunk-texting you

(8:58 pm) But tonight’s special

(8:59 pm) Because tonight’s Drunk Molly Antics involve an epiphany:

(8:59 pm) I hate my life, Jim.

(8:59 pm) I hate it so so much.

(9:00 pm) You help people fake their deaths, right?

(9:00 pm) Killing people and fake killing people is your specialty, right?

(9:02 pm) I’ve just finished visiting with relatives for the Thanksgiving holiday

(9:02 pm) Met my cousin’s fiancé, was thoroughly judged by everyone there

(9:03 pm) And I realized:

(9:03 pm) I don’t want them to die, that much is true

(9:03 pm) But I want _me_ to die

(9:04 pm) Not really

(9:04 pm) Just to them

(9:04 pm) I want them to be of the impression I died

(9:04) Let them think my sad pathetic old maid’s life was cut short

(9:06 pm) When really I’m off traveling the world with you, living a more glamorous life than any of them could ever imagine, eating exquisite meals and drinking expensive wine and having amazing sex and being _happy_

(9:07 pm) Being free of the hell that is my life here, where I’m alone and made to feel awful about myself at every turn

(9:08 pm) I guess it’s ballsy of me to tell you what I want so forwardly

(9:08 pm) But hey, they don’t call it liquid courage for nothing

(9:09 pm) And it’s not like you ever write back, sooo

(9:09 pm) I feel safe being honest with you

(9:09 pm) Honest with myself

(9:10 pm) It’s never gonna happen so I see no harm in admitting what I want

(9:10 pm) I want to disappear

(9:10 pm) I want to run away with you, Jim Moriarty, and I don’t give a damn what that says about me as a person.

(9:12 pm) G2G Don’t Stop Believin’ is coming up xx

* * *

**December**

**12.22**

(7:43 pm) Toby passed away.

(7:46 pm) He really liked you so I figured I should tell you.

. . .

(8:30 pm) I miss you, Jim.

* * *

**12.25**

Molly is amazed she isn’t crying by the time her cab stops at her flat.

_Compensating for the size of her mouth and breasts._

But then she supposes she’s too numb to feel much of anything at this point.

It was stupid, she internally berates herself on her walk to her front door. It was stupid to bring Sherlock a present, it was stupid to dress up for him, it was stupid to go to his Christmas party at all. But she just thought—her cat was dead, the man she only texts when drunk (other than three nights ago when she was painfully sober) never texts her back, she was skipping her family’s Christmas dinner after the disaster that was Thanksgiving… She really didn’t have anything to lose, right?

Except clearly that wasn’t true, she shakes her head as she fumbles with her keys. Apparently, she still had some dignity left to lose. And now it’s all gone, or so she assumes; she can’t really gauge her feelings on anything at the moment because she can’t really _feel anything_ at the moment.

She gets the blasted door open at last and steps inside her flat. She flicks the lights on and tosses her jacket in the general direction of the coat rack and she just— _she_ _just_ —she doesn’t know what she’s going to do, her brain hasn’t gotten to processing yet, she just needs to get out of this _stupid_ dress, so pathetic, so _tacky_ , why did she even _try_ , when she hears the faintest little sound and looks down and—

She gasps.

 _Oh_.

There is an open box wrapped in red and green ribbon in the middle of her living room floor. Five adorable, different-colored kittens are wrestling and meowing inside.

There’s this surge in her chest, this almost painful surge, where all the heaviness that had previously encompassed her chest cavity transforms into joy because _look at these little cuties_! She dazedly walks over to the box, crouches down in front of it, and picks one up, an orange tabby cat. She babbles to it automatically, the coos flowing from her lips of their own accord: “Hi, sweetie. Aren’t you just precious? What’s your name, huh?”

And then her phone beeps with a new text message and the name that lights up the screen sends her heart plummeting into her stomach in the best way possible.

 

**Jim**

(7:01 pm) Kitchen counter.

Molly sets the fluffy little ball of joy down with the rest of his/her new siblings and nearly trips over her own two feet on her way to the kitchen. Front and center on the counter is a vanilla-colored envelope with her name scrawled across the top in a beautiful loopy script.

Hands shaking, she forces herself to peel the gorgeous red seal up slowly; she gets the feeling she’ll want to keep this envelope forever. Within the decorative appendage, she finds a crisply folded letter. She carefully extracts and unfolds it. Her eyes tear up almost immediately as she begins to read.

* * *

_Molly Dearest,_

_Dear me. I’ve been on this planet for 34 largely uneventful years, and you have single-handedly made this the most interesting one of all._ You _, not The Virgin. No one’s ever unfiltered with me. It’s been refreshing, familiarizing myself with the concept these past few months._

_Your drunk alter ego certainly has raised several good talking points. I’d like to address them now in due fashion—while drunk myself._

_I am not a high-functioning sociopath; I’m just insane. :)_

_Every moment I spent in your company was enjoyable, which was extremely confusing to me. Initially, I intended on you being a means to an end, yes. But the more time I spent with you, the more I realized you were so much more than that. It wasn’t just that I found you more beautiful than any woman I’d ever seen; there was something different about you, deep down on the inside. I couldn’t put my finger on it, what it was that made you not ordinary. Through your oh so endearing drunk texts, I think I’ve figured it out._

_You don’t see morality as black and white. I always have; I’ll be the first to proclaim my villain status. And yet you don’t see me that way. You’ve cast Sherlock as the villain in your story. That_ fascinates _me, Mollikins. I’m intrigued by the way your mind works. Though I must correct you: I don’t kill people for a living, as you seem to think, evidenced by your considerate though misplaced concern that I may have “had a hard day finding people to kill or whatever.” Being a consulting criminal means I help people fulfill any given crime their heart desires, so long as it piques my interest: theft, smuggling, evading taxes, bombing a city, assassinating a Prime Minister… I do it all!_

 _I must confess you make me sad, too, for I don’t think you have any idea how amazing you truly are. You see me. You see past Jim from IT, past Moriarty, and you see_ me _. It’s unnerving because half the time I don’t even really see me, so how is that you can? Another one of your talents, another thing that makes you unordinary. You can rest assured our connection was nowhere near one-sided. You’re easily my best relationship, and you’re definitely the only one in which I actually cared for the woman. Still do, as you’ve noticed._

 _Molly, I meant_ everything _about our sex._ Penetrative _sex._

_My middle name is Christopher. Top secret information, don’t tell anyone. It’ll be our little secret._

_Why are you still alive, you ask? When I met Sherlock at the pool, he told me he didn’t have a heart. I replied, and I quote, “But we both know that’s not quite true.” Through reading your texts, I’ve come to realize that’s yet another similarity between ol’ Sherly and me. I don’t know how anyone could kill you and live with himself, Molly. I’ve never much cared for living, but were I responsible for the end of your life, my lack of interest would swiftly turn into a strong disinterest. The details aren’t important, but I actually made plans just today to ensure your life goes on. You will always have my protection._

_I did not kill my entire family when I became the world’s only consulting criminal. In fact, I’ve never killed any of my family members. I actually check on my brother from time to time, see to it he has enough money to get by, that sort of thing. He’s a_ station master _. Boring career choice, but he seems to enjoy it. Ordinary people…_

 _I was deeply saddened to learn of Toby’s passing. I even took the following day off work to honor his memory. He was a great cat, and while nothing can ever take his place, I hope these five baby kittens will mend the hole he left in your heart. They do come with a condition, however: you have to name at least one after a character from Glee. Because you’re right, Molly: it is a damn good show. The next time you drunk-text me, do try to include your thoughts on season two thus far. I for one am_ riveted _._

_As for your confession of what you want… I’m not opposed to the idea. However, I think we should give it a few months, see if you change your mind about your life in London, see if you still want to disappear when you’re not drunk and sad. To be honest, I had my own plans for this summer, but you, Miss Molly, have managed to rewrite them entirely._

_I intend to take Sherlock down very soon, Molly. If, after all of that, you would still like to ride off into the sunset with Jim from IT/Moriarty/James Christopher Moriarty/me so we can make wicked love in every city that matters, I will take you up on it in a heartbeat. I promise._

_Also, in the event you’d like some reading material to get you in the holiday spirit, I’ve placed a copy of my version of the Christmas story in your mailbox. I have the original framed in one of my bedrooms. That was my proudest accomplishment as a six-year-old. My Catholic teacher failed to appreciate my creative eye. Oh well…_

_Merry Christmas, Molly._

_Jim Moriarty xxx_

_P.S. You look beautiful in that dress._

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic inspired by a Tumblr text post! This time it was: "imagine toby (mollys cat, as you will remember from her blog) dying during the hiatus and molly texts jim about it while drunk (obvs not expecting or getting a reply) and forgetting all about it until she comes home to a small basket of kittens a few days later"


End file.
